


L'shanah Tovah

by Berettasalts



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Jewish!AU, M/M, Prideshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 17:30:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4796138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Berettasalts/pseuds/Berettasalts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jewish!Kaiba AU. Atem is basically as curious about Jewish traditions as a small inquisitive child, and just as bothersome. Happy Rosh Hashanah, everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	L'shanah Tovah

**Author's Note:**

> Bear with me on any canon inconsistencies; I know Kaiba’s adopted, but the AU demanded that he have Jewish ancestry. Suspension of disbelief, please.
> 
> I also have no idea when Akhnumkhanen was actually supposed to have lived; I took a wild guess.

“No. It’s _L'Shanah Tovah._ ”

“Sa-na _Too_ -va.”

“You idiot.”

“Don’t look at me! Your dialect is _absurd._ ”

“Excuse me, did you just call the language of my heritage, the traditional language of our Torah, the language that has for eons been spoken by my ancestors _absurd_?”

“You called me an idiot,” pouted Atememheb, former pharaoh and current co-owner of the game shop that had been willed jointly to him and to the grandson of Mutou Suguroku, Yuugi, nearly two years prior.

Seto’s expression did not change, but his lip curled into a cold smile. “That I did. But I used to call you that every Thursday.”

Atem wrinkled his nose, uncrossed his impossibly long legs (Seto pointedly shut his eyes and refused to notice, keeping his own legs crossed and his posture relaxed in prayer), and began to shuffle across the room. His footsteps fell silent as he reached the carpet, and in spite of himself Kaiba slatted open one suspicious eye.

“What are you doing now?”

“How long is this going to take?”

“Much longer, the more you continue to ask me stupid questions.”

“Explain to me the principle behind this _Yamim Nora'im_ one more time,” Atem demanded. Demanded, because even with three thousand years and a new body between his past life and this one, he was still royalty, and it seemed he had never really lost the certain sense of entitlement that seemed to come along with it. It would likely always be a part of his personality. Seto, knowing this, inhaled a deep, calming breath and opened one eye again.

“In the month of Elul, which precedes the _Yamim Nora'im_ , we begin a period of self-reflection and penitential prayer known as _selichot_. It is a time when we reflect on our past sins, on harm that we have inflicted on others.” Atem, intuitive as he was, did not miss the slight tone of regret in Kaiba’s voice, though it was carefully hidden. Seto was impressively good at hiding his expressions and his feelings from others. Atem was the only one he could never seem to fool, and he recognized that Seto felt at least some regret over the way he had treated Atem over the years, particularly his antagonism of Yuugi, who Atem still openly adored. Atem never saw what Kaiba wanted him to see, or was fooled by the mask that he wore to fool others - in fact, Atem often ignored it entirely to peer directly into his soul instead. At the moment, Atem’s habit of soul-peering was making Seto uneasy. “What?”

Atem smiled warmly, and Kaiba resisted an urge to slap that smug grin from his face. “I hate you, sometimes.”

“I somehow strongly doubt that,” Atem replied, unoffended, and leaned forward. “So this Yamin - _Yamim Nora'im_ \- is a time that you offer penance. And it leads into _Rosh Ha-sha-nah_ \- the Hebrew New Year.”

“Correct. Now, are you going to allow me to finish my prayers, or are we going to do this all day?”

“That depends. I ask again, how long is this going to take?”

Seto inhaled deeply through his nose, counted to ten, and opened one eye again. “Atem, I realize that these festivals are foreign concepts to you, and that you are new to them. You are, by nature, a curious creature. I understand that. You are more than invited to participate with me in our holy festivals and celebrations, which I believe is fairly big of me considering that your people famously enslaved and abused mine - ”

“I told you before, that’s incorrect,” Atem interrupted rudely. “Akhnumkhanen lived roughly between the 1400th and 1100th centuries B.C. The Pharaoh Seti II and his son, Rameses II, who are widely associated with the Exodus of the Semitic peoples from Egypt, lived long before my father or I did. As far as I am aware, we aren’t even a part of the same dynastic lineage. So it is unfair to blame me for that.”

“ - But for the love of God, allow me to at least finish my penitence before you inundate me with questions. This is a _prayer_ , a very important ritual. I would think that _you_ of all people would have respect for ritual and ceremony, you ignorant _goy_.”

Atem narrowed his eyes, and that seemed to effectively shut him up. He did not seem to like the insinuation that he was somehow being disrespectful of tradition, and in fact, it offended something deep in the roots of his Old Kingdom heritage. It amused Kaiba how quickly he bristled, like a wild dog who felt that his territory had been threatened.

“Now, are you finished?”

Instead of answering, Atem rose to his feet in a single, fluid motion and crossed the room in two long strides. He sat himself unabashedly on Seto’s mahogany desk (Seto cringed), and leaned back against it, undoubtedly leaving handprints all over the varnish that he had _just. Had. Polished._ He turned up his nose, crossed his legs, and pointedly remained silent.

Atem, Kaiba thought, had to be the only person in the world who could make a temper tantrum so damn enticing.

Seto watched him for another moment while Atem refused to meet his eyes, and God help him, he was going to have to start this all over again because the thoughts that position brought to mind (along with recent memories involving that very desk) were the farthest thing from pure or fit for prayer. He made a low sound in his throat, caught Atem’s attention, and the smallest of smiles crossed his lips again.

“There are other parts of the tradition that you’re going to like,” he said, this time in a deliberately low, enticing voice that made Atem snap to attention in spite of his determination to become a part of the decor. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten how much you love sweet foods. There are a lot of interesting uses for honey, besides in recipes for _Challah_ bread.”


End file.
